


The Object of Someone Else's Vision...

by AllHallowsEve



Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [32]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bridge between end of Episode: s2e9 and s2e10, Emotional Confession - Freeform, Emotional Fallout, Episode: s02e10 Hunted, Fear, Intense Emotions, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, Pain, Pre-Slash, Self Loathing, Wincest - Freeform, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-07-24 19:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16181396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: Dean finally tells Sam about John's final request.  Emotional turmoil ensues.  Another of the yellow eyed demon's chosen enters the picture along with an unwelcome hunter from the boys past.Season 2 Episode 10 as seen through Wincest Colored Glasses.





	1. In the Aftermath of a Confession...

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first 2 chapter story I have included in this series. It seemed like the important discussion by the river needed its own moment but I wanted to keep the format of one story per episode. So I didn't want to give an entire story to the scenes between Croatoan and Hunted. Therefore the only solution was to do a two part chapter for this story. I hope the flow makes sense. 
> 
> As always this story is unbeta'd so please feel free to point out any mistakes you find so I can fix them and make this better for everyone.

Sam walked slowly over to stand next to the fence, and took the offered burger and beer from his brother.  They ate in relative silence and then Sam climbed up on the fence to sit and finish his beer.  His stomach was twisted in knots, wanting to get his questions just right so that Dean wouldn’t brush him off.

He wished he hadn’t eaten, because the food was sitting heavy like a log in his stomach. 

Dean looked out over the calmly moving water.  He wished he felt even a tenth as peaceful as it seemed.  He could feel a storm coming.  He just wanted to be on solid ground when it washed over him.

He knew Sam’s questions would be inevitable.  It was not in his brother’s nature to let things go, especially not something like what had almost happened between them the night before.  Dean had almost revealed his love for his brother in a way he never truly dreamed of doing.  He felt he must be losing his mind. 

Sam had made it clear that he didn’t want Dean the way Dean wanted him, and yet, faced with Sam’s imminent death, in the wake of the thought of going on without him, Dean had wanted desperately to confess, to prostrate himself before the love of his life and accept the consequences, whatever they may be, because without Sam, his life was meaningless anyway.

Dean had barely survived for the years Sam was at Stanford.  The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that Sam was out there, and happy, and that maybe they would get a chance to be together again at sometime in the future.  But if Sam was gone, there would be no reason for Dean to keep going.  He had confessed that much to Sam already.  He knew there would be fallout from that.  He wasn’t sure what it would be, but it was better to be here, in this stillness with Sam, when it happened, than have it explode in the middle of a case.

He kept watching the rippling water, not ready to face Sam.  As much as his eyes kept trying to seek him out, Dean was too frightened to meet Sam’s gaze.

Sam sat quiet for a while, watching Dean watch the river.  His heart gave a stutter as the light glinted across Dean’s eyes, making them look like translucent jade glass, more beautiful than any church’s window.  Before he realized he had spoken, his voice echoed in the silence.  “So, last night, you want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?”

Dean knew it was coming, but he still wasn’t ready.  He turned and asked, “What do you mean?”

Sam assumed his brother wouldn’t be forthcoming, but to behave as if he was clueless still shocked Sam.  It forced a startled smile across his face as he repeated Dean’s question back at him.  He added, trying to not be as insistent as he felt, “I mean you said you were tired of the job.”  Sam swallowed around his nerves before adding, “And that it wasn’t just because of Dad.”

It was that final part that had Sam barely staying upright.  His spine seemed to be vibrating from the fear that that phrase kept causing.  He felt that there was something just out of reach inside Dean that would change everything, but his brain refused to put together what it might possibly be, that would be so hurtful to Dean that he didn’t want to go on, not just with the job, but willing to give up his life because of it.  That had Sam feeling like he might fly apart from the tension and fear it caused him.  He had to know what it all meant.

Sam’s mind kept trying to piece together the facts, that the only thing that would make Sam not want to go on was Dean’s death.  But that was because he loved Dean more than any brother should.  When Dean lay dying he had confessed his love for his brother, his desire for Dean in all the ways that brought Sam shame.  In that moment he had known in his heart that if Dean died, he didn’t want to keep going. 

Sam’s heart seized and his breath caught.  _What if…_

Dean still couldn’t bring himself to answer in any capacity other than, “Forget it.”

“No, I can’t.  No way.”  Sam shook his head, now that impossible thoughts were swirling around he wouldn’t let this go, couldn’t.  He refused to just brush off what was hanging over them like a thundercloud. 

Dean’s heart began to pound even harder, he scrambled for anything to put his brother off.  Now that he knew Sam wasn’t dying, it was desperately important for him to not come clean.  Honesty would just cause him to lose Sam in a different way.  To have Sam look at him with disgust and walk away, he would rather put a bullet to his own brain than have that happen.

Dean tried his best to throw an air of nonchalance into his voice as he said, “Come on man, I thought we were both gonna die, you can’t hold that over me.”

Sam had heard that tone a million times in his life.  When he first became old enough to be curious about where their dad went all the time, when he would ask why they lived differently than other kids.  Anytime Dean thought Sam wasn’t ready to hear whatever answers he was looking for, this was the way Dean behaved.  Sam knew he had to stick with it.  He had to wear his brother down.  This felt too important to let it go, potentially life altering.  No matter how much his brother wanted him to.

“No, no, no, no, you can’t pull that crap with me.  You’re talking.”  Sam stated it as if it was a matter of fact.

Dean put on a grin, it felt dangerous and almost like a threat, “And what if I don’t?”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, not in worry, but in curiosity.  His brother suddenly seemed different, like something was causing Dean to use his “I’m about to get into trouble” voice, that he used with guys who thought they could stand toe to toe with him in a bar fight.  It verged on sounding reckless.

Sam was confused.  That didn’t make any sense.  Normally he had a pretty good read on Dean, at least he felt like he did.  But right now, he was lost and the tone Dean just took with that question, made things go hot below his torso.   It threw him.  He knew he had to stick with his pushing, but his head swam a little. _Could he be right?_

Sam paused, “Then,” he took a breath, “I guess I’ll just have to keep asking you till you do.”

It was what Dean had expected.  He knew he couldn’t shake Sam once he got something in his overly developed brain.  Sam would hound him till the day he died if he didn’t give him something plausible.

Dean’s shoulders hunched, he was propping himself up against the railing Sam was sitting on.  His grip against the wood tightened as his fears flowed down his spine making his legs weak.

He turned away from the view which wasn’t calming his nerves at all.  He leaned his butt against the wood and looked in the opposite direction, but not really seeing anything.  The sun shown warmly down on his face.  He stalled for more time, telling Sam he didn’t know, that he thought maybe they just both needed a vacation, that he had never been to the Grand Canyon.  That they did all this driving all over the country but they had never really experienced much it had to offer.  He even made a stupid offhand comment about banging Lindsay Lohan. 

His voice was almost a whisper, sounding rough, like he had been screaming into a tornado and this was the aftermath left on his vocal chords.

_What if he told Sam?  What if he just confessed?  What if he stopped running from everything that made him Dean, which was his all encompassing love and passion for Sam?_

Sam watched his brother, taking in everything from the sound of his voice to the lost, strange, timbre of his words.  He seemed young and vulnerable in a way that shook Sam to his core.  He could see Dean struggling to say things without seeming to say what he truly meant. 

Hope from some unknown reservoir deep within Sam’s soul bubbled up unbidden.  Sam’s voice was kind but concerned when he told Dean, “You’re not making any sense.

Dean grasped for anything that would give him a little more time, a little more space to get his heart and mind back in check.  He couldn’t tell Sam, what was he thinking.  Dean answered, the struggle he was enduring inside himself becoming more evident with each word, “I think we should take a break from all this.  Why do we got to get stuck with all the responsibility?  You know, why can’t we live life a little bit?”

The ending was almost defensive, not aimed at Sam, but as if Dean was asking the very universe around them.

To anyone else, what Dean was saying would seem perfectly reasonable.  Especially given all the brothers had been through the past two years.  But to Sam, who had only ever known Dean to want one thing in life, and that was to hunt, it scared him.  It made him feel unsettled in a way little in this crazy life ever had.  Sure Dean loved hooking up with the ladies, and drinking himself senseless, but he loved the hunt, needed it to feel sane.  The thought that Dean didn’t want to keep going, for any reason, it sent a cold chill down Sam’s spine. 

He was scared, and had no idea what was behind this.  It was one thing to think something like this when they both thought they were dying, but now, Dean sounded like he meant it for right now, this minute, that they shouldn’t have to bear all this responsibility.  It made no sense to Sam and scared the crap out of him.

Sam’s own voice got quiet, almost reverent, “Why are you saying all this?”

Dean glanced up at Sam, and then looked away hurriedly, almost too quick, as if the vision of his brother burned his eyes to look at too long, as if Sam was the sun.

Dean’s mouth opened momentarily, Sam held his breath, feeling like this was it, but then Dean turned and began to walk away taking another swig of his beer.

Sam got down from his perch and began to follow saying, “No, no, no, no, no, Dean.  You’re my brother, alright?”

Sam would have kept following but Dean stopped and turned to face him.  

Sam’s voice was filled with compassion and worry when he said, “So whatever weight you’re carrying, let me help a little bit.”

It broke Dean’s heart.  Here Sam was, wanting to help him, when he was so close to hurting Sam.  The weight on Dean’s soul was all about Sam, wanting him, longing to touch him, to be touched by him, to do dark things in empty rooms.  He thought of the ugly things about Sam, his father had said to him before he died.  The weight that tore against his soul ever since.  Knowing that anyone could believe this beautiful man in front of him could be anything less than goodness and light, it killed him, made him hate his father.  Dean was so confused by what his dad had said, and didn’t know what he was supposed to be watching out for.  _How could he ever do what his dad said he might have to?_

If Dean told Sam about what was in his heart, it might break them apart forever.  If he confessed what John had spoken before he died, hell Dean didn’t even know what to make of it really, how would Sam possibly carry it?  Either of those truths would hurt Sam if he knew.  And here Sam was, worried about Dean.  It wasn’t right.  Sam deserved so much better.

Dean stared off down the tree lined path. He was going to have to tell Sam something.  Maybe a little of the truth would satisfy Sam enough to make him back off and give Dean enough time to figure something else out.

He looked down at Sam’s shoes, and said, “I can’t.  I promised.”

That threw Sam and sent his tiny hopeful hypothesis spinning.  Sam’s tone became one of confusion, “Who?”

Dean finally looked up into his beloved’s worried face after the word, “Dad,” crossed his lips.

Sam’s forehead wrinkled, this definitely wasn’t the track he had hoped for.  His voice became timid, “What are you talking about?”

Dean couldn’t face Sam while he explained this part.  He stared down at the bottle in Sam’s hand. 

“Right before Dad died,” Dean took a deep breath.  He hated doing this.  This was going to hurt Sam.  He didn’t want to scare his brother.  But the truth of this was better than the truth he felt in his heart.  He could live with Sam being scared.  Heaven help him, it might even cause Sam to stay with him, give him a reason to need Dean, to want to be with Dean as a shoulder to lean on for support.  If he actually told Sam the entirety of what John had told him, then Sam might fall apart and lean even more on Dean.

Dean cursed himself, hated how badly he needed Sam, and what he was willing to do to his little brother to keep him.  He had sworn to his dad that he would keep the secret, but more than that, he had promised himself he would carry this request to the grave so as to not hurt or scare Sam _.  And now he was so fucking weak_.  To hide the truth about being in love with Sam, he was willing to tell the horrible thing that his father died asking him to protect.

He took another breath, “He told me something,” He glanced up at Sam, but the fear he saw in his brother’s eyes made him immediately look away in shame.

He closed his eyes, “He told me something about you.”

Dean opened his eyes slowly and the pain writ large across Sam’s face held his gaze and refused to allow him to look away. 

Sam’s face was open, fearful, on the verge of tears as he looked to his older brother, the source of safety and security for his entire life and asked, “What?” It came out as a harsh damaged whisper.

Dean watched as his brother’s shoulders and chest rose and fell, his breath showed the first signs of panic as Sam asked, “Dean, what did he tell you?”

Now faced with actually going through with this confession, Dean wasn’t sure he could. But the alternative was to tell Sam how he truly felt and the raw panic in the pit of his stomach at the thought of losing Sam forever made that option impossible.  So he swallowed down the self hatred that was bubbling up inside and stared across the small distance between them.

“He said that he…”  Dean’s voice failed him.   No he couldn’t do this, not to Sam.

His mind flashed to the piercing, heart crushing, pain he endured when Sam got on the bus to Stanford without him. 

He took a shallow breath and then continued, “Wanted me to watch out for you,” he swallowed, “take care of you.”  He couldn’t meet Sam’s eye.  He focused on the swirly pattern on the ugly pink shirt Sam had left over from his Stanford days.

Sam’s confusion was clear in his tone and the wrinkled brow as he shook his head and said, “He told you that a million times.”

Dean’s chin dropped and he looked down at the dirt, “Well, this time was different.”  His tone deepened and became a little desperate.

“He said that I had to,” Dean’s throat closed around the words, tightened the tone that managed to come out strained.  He took a breath and the next words came out forceful, “Save you.”

His eyes sought out his brother’s, longed to not be having this conversation.  He saw the pain and confusion that poured out of the man standing in front of him, asking for answers that Dean fiercely didn’t want to give.

Sam asked fearfully, “Save me from what?”

Dean didn’t have the full story to give Sam, but with everything that had been happening with the other people like Sam, he had pieced things together in his own mind.  He didn’t want to go into any of that.  Wanted to just stick to the truth of what John had said and hoped desperately that it would convince Sam that was why he had said what he did in that locked room the night before.

Dean reluctantly continued, “He just said that I had to save you, and nothing else mattered.”

He watched Sam turn his head away from Dean, looking out over the water for answers from a father that couldn’t explain anything, anymore, and probably wouldn’t have even if the bastard had still been alive.

Dean didn’t want to finish this.  But now that he had come this far, he felt he owed Sam at least this much of the truth. 

Dean’s mind churned through all the reasons he had began this conversation, but then swallowed his thoughts down, he didn’t want to go on, but now that he had started, his own selfishness wanted to lay down some of the weight.  He had been carrying this secret and it was eating at him, it had gnawed a hole in his soul that was already too weary and road worn to keep going under the added strain.  He had to get the rest out.  Sam had said he wanted to help carry the burden so Dean was going to oblige him.  Dean felt the internal hatred lashing out, screaming for him to stop, but he couldn’t.

His voice became breathy and lost, sounding so much younger than his years, as he added, “And that if I couldn’t, I’d,” he couldn’t meet Sam’s eyes.  His heart was breaking for his brother. He couldn’t believe he was going through with this.  Of all the things he had done to Sam over the years, all the ways he had manipulated him to keep him close, this was the worst.

The broken tone that had entered his brother’s voice pulled Sam’s eyes back to Dean.  Sam’s heart was racing, he could tell there was more, that Dean was holding back and it must have been something horrible because his brother looked lost and scared in a way that was making Sam’s anxiety raise to panicked levels.  He asked, afraid of the answer, but being unable to stop until he had it, “You’d what, Dean?”

It sounded like an accusation.  Dean felt it like a punch in the solar plexus.

Dean stared up at his brother, and felt crushed under the weight of the words that were about to pass over his lips.  “I’d have to kill you.”

The last words sounded like a prayer for forgiveness, and a pleading for his brother to understand, but none of that reached Sam’s heart.  The words reverberated in the younger Winchester’s mind, bouncing off the insides like a light caught between prisms.  It stole his breath.

Sam looked to Dean to crack a joke, or just kidding, to say anything that would stop what he was feeling, to stop the hemorrhaging going on in Sam’s soul.  His father had been a bastard.  Had treated Sam in ways Sam had felt were just short of torture at times.  But in the end, John had sacrificed himself for Dean.  That had gone a long way towards making amends with Sam.  But this, this felt like he was free-falling into a dark windowless pit of despair and Dean was the only thing he could look to for escape.

Dean watched the impact as it hit Sam.  His brother’s body was rocked backward slightly by the force of the knowledge. 

Dean’s heart felt like it had plummeted from the perch in his chest and fallen out onto the ground between them as he watched his beloved brother’s face crumple.

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat.  “He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.”  It felt like the words were ripped out of his throat by some invisible monster.  After all this time, he still couldn’t believe that his father would ever think that was even a possibility.

There it was.  The weight Dean had shouldered for so long, the one that was almost too much to bear, was out, was shared now between them.  Dean didn’t feel relief that he had dodged the bullet of confessing his love and desire for Sam.  He felt empty like he had just wrecked the most beautiful soul that ever lived.

Sam felt fear smother every cell.  It ran like warm rain from the top of his head down his long body. 

“Kill me?” Sam asked with incredulity.

His eyes filled with tears that matched the anguish that flowed violently through his veins.  His voice was harsh and just this side of a whisper when he asked, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Dean’s misery matched Sam’s like a bookend as he murmured hopelessly, “I don’t know.”  He shook his head and looked away, wanting any answer that would ease his brother’s pain, but knowing there was none to be found.

Sam’s fear and ache churned into anger, as it had so often when dealing with anything related to John and his mysterious secrets.  He belligerently peppered Dean with questions about why John would have said that.  Asking what he might have known about the demon’s plan for Sam, or if he expected him to go dark. 

Dean had wondered all those things over the months he had carried this hateful instruction his father had left him with.  He had chewed on it every time they interacted with another one of the demon’s chosen who turned dark.  He knew nothing for certain but had so many fears swarming around inside himself.

Sam stepped closer aggressively, yelling in Dean’s face, “What else did he say Dean?”

All the energy had gone out of Dean.  He had accomplished his goal of sidelining Sam’s questions about why he wanted to die by his brother’s side, but now they would both pay the price.

In the face of Sam’s pain and anguish, anger and confusion, Dean closed down and accepted his fate.  He shook his head, and looked up at the fury that was pouring off of his brother and told the truth, “Nothing, that’s it I swear.”

He resigned himself to accept whatever Sam let fly at him.  Sam’s anger was well deserved. Dean felt it deeply. He had just betrayed his father and brother at the same time by this confession, all so that he could hide his disgusting lust for his brother hoping it would never see the light of day.  He felt the worthlessness and self loathing swallow him up and he shrugged into it like a well worn coat.

Sam asked how his brother couldn’t have told him this, and Dean told him the only thing that could possibly have caused him to keep something like this from him, their dad had begged Dean not to tell.  It was his last request, his last command.

When Sam’s rage welled up and poured over Dean with, “You had no right to keep this from me!” Dean allowed his own anger to well up and lash out in return. “I wish to God he’d never opened his mouth.  Then I wouldn’t have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day!”

Sam turned away from Dean.  He walked a few feet, fumes roiled and bubbled under his skin and wafted off him coalescing into something tangible, like boiling water in freezing air.  The pain had completely encompassed every part of Sam.  He couldn’t fathom that Dean would believe this.  John yes.  It hurt but wasn’t surprising.  The anger, of the past decade, at his father was a comfortable feeling to slip into, easy and known.  But the feeling of betrayal, that Dean, the man he loved more than anyone in the entire world, had always loved beyond measure for as long as he could remember, for him to think even for a minute that he would have to kill Sam, because Sam might not be savable.  It twisted up in his mind and ripped through his soul like a violent clinging vine with deadly thorns that tore into every part of his being.

He tried to swallow it down.  He thought about Dean having to carry this, having to keep this secret.  It couldn’t have been easy for him.  So he tried to calm himself and think of this like any other case.  He said out into the air, not really ready to face his brother again, “We just have to figure out what’s going on, what the hell all this means.”

But then when Dean started to tell him his thoughts on their next step, saying how laying low would be safer, Sam turned to him in disbelief.  When the weight of what his brother was truly saying, that they should stop hunting, stop the life Dean loved more than anything, just to make sure that Sam didn’t turn evil, morph into a killer, Sam spit those accusations at Dean.  He no longer wanted to keep his anger at bay. 

He listened as Dean listed off the weird things that had been happening that they had been through, his powers, his immunity to the demon virus.  Sam could hear the fear and panic in Dean’s voice but it didn’t touch him, didn’t sway him.  All that he could feel in his heart was the treason his brother had committed.  His emotions flew around inside Sam like a storm whipping and cutting everything in its path.

Sam drank from his beer.  Dean begged him to give him time.  Dean told Sam that he knew he deserved for Sam to be pissed, but begged Sam to give him some time to figure things out.

Sam nodded, feigning acquiescence but couldn’t hold Dean’s eye.  Sam knew in his heart he was done and needed to get away.  He was lost and confused and the one person that had always been his compass, his true north, had just turned him upside down and his needle had become unmagnetized.  Sam felt he would fly apart if he didn’t get some space to breathe on his own away from Dean.  So he nodded and gave the impression he would go along and lay low.

They gathered their things and drove away to find a motel to do just that.


	2. I Don't Believe in Destiny...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets another one of the Yellow Eyed Demon's chosen. Gordon Walker tries to kill Sam but it doesn't go the way he expects. 
> 
> This covers the remainder of Season 2 Episode 10 as viewed through Wincest Colored Glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I have been away from writing for so long. Especially after leaving this episode only halfway finished.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so please point out any mistakes or continuity problems in this story so that I can fix them and make the story better.

Sam ducked out while Dean was in the shower and stole a car.  He had to do what he felt was right, in his gut.  His brother could stick his head in the sand if he wanted to, but Sam couldn’t.   Wouldn’t.  He had to check in with Ash and see if any of the others like him would show up on his radar.  It was the only lead, the only option Sam knew that might help him figure any of this out.

Sam had to believe that he could be good, wouldn’t go darkside.  His heart was still raw at the thought that his father and brother could believe that about him.  He had to find a way to prove them both wrong.

Leaving Dean hurt in the worst way, but the pain of his brother actually believing he might have to kill Sam, could kill him, it haunted Sam and made leaving a tiny bit more tolerable.  He tried to hold on to the anger, it made being away from Dean a little easier to take, made his breathing without his other half more manageable. 

He pulled up to the Roadhouse and wasn’t sure of the kind of welcome he would receive.  The brothers hadn’t left the Harvelles under the best of circumstances.

Sam needed information that he could only get from Ash though, so he walked slowly into the bar.  Ellen looked fairly unsurprised to see him and told him Dean had been calling, sick with worry.   Sam had figured that would happen.  He deflected the older woman’s questions about what had happened between him and his brother by asking her about Jo.  He was surprised to hear that the younger woman had taken off on her own to go hunting, but not nearly as surprised as he was by Ellen’s words, “It’s not your fault.”

That hit him in the gut, hard.  He had no idea how much he needed to hear those words.  Even if they were from Ellen, and not from Dean, even if they had nothing to do with what he was going through and were about her and her own daughter, they still were a balm to his soul.

He looked down at the bar and his lips twisted up to hide the overwhelming emotion that was suddenly flooding his system.  He looked back up to the older woman as she said sincerely, “Sam, none of it is.”

His brows pulled together and he had to fight back tears.

She told him she had forgiven John a long time ago for what happened to her husband but she didn’t think John had ever forgiven himself.  Sam asked her what did happen between them, but it was her turn to deflect the harder question, asking him instead why he had come to the Roadhouse.

He explained to her and Ash that he needed Ash’s skills to look for other people like him.   Sam asked Ash to use the parameters of the nursery fire, along with the timing of the mothers’ deaths to find potential candidates that would be like him.

After only a few minutes Ash came back and delivered the news that there were only four people nationwide that fit the description.  Sam plus the two others he had already met and then a new name, Scott Carey.  The only hiccup was that Scott was dead.  He had been killed in Lafayette, Indiana about a month ago, stabbed in a parking lot and the police had no leads.

Sam took off to research that young man’s death.  He begged Ellen not to tell Dean where he was going. 

When he hit town it didn’t take him long to track down Scott’s father and he went to talk to him.  The young man’s story was familiar; about a year ago he began to get headaches and then became isolated.  Sam checked out the guy’s room and knew he was on the right track when he found a collage of yellow eyes hidden in the back of the closet. 

The only other clue he was able to come up with was the name of a doctor from some pill bottles on Scott’s bedside table.  He left, realizing he would need to find a way to get access to Scott’s records from the doctor if he wanted to know any more.

He made his way back to the Blue Rose Motel where he was staying, but as he approached his door, he felt someone watching him, following him.  He grabbed the person and shoved her up against the wall asking angrily who she was.  Instead of trying to attack him or hurt him, she told him she was there to warn him that he was in danger.

Sam allowed her to come inside and she began trying to explain to him that she had seen a vision.  She was sure that Sam would think she was crazy but instead he tried to calm her down.  She told him her name was Ava Wilson and that she began having headaches and nightmares about a year ago.  Then she explained that she dreamed about Scott’s death before it happened.  And she told Sam that she had a dream about Sam last night and that in it, she watched him die.

Sam gave her background information on how they were connected and how he was like her.  She didn’t want to be a part of any of it, and begged him to leave town so he wouldn’t die.  But he told her he had to figure out what was going on.  She said she was just going to leave and go back to her life, but Sam convinced her to stay and help, by telling her that if she walked out the door, she would never know why all this was happening.  He asked her to assist him with retrieving Scott’s medical records by going in to talk to the doctor that Scott had been seeing to distract him so that Sam could get the other man’s records.

After their successful criminal endeavor, they went back to the hotel and scoured Scott’s file.  The documentation showed just how eerily familiar the dead man’s story was, except that Scott’s ability was that he could electrocute things if he wanted to just by touching them.

 

***********************

 

 

Dean pulled into the motel he had tracked Sam to, with the help of Ellen’s call pointing him to the right city.  As the car stopped, he saw Sam in the window.  Relief flooded through Dean.   He hadn’t been able to sleep or eat with any success since Sam had run away.  It was a good thing that Dean’s stomach was mostly empty because it gave a sickening convulsion as Sam moved away from the window leaving behind the image of a young woman in his room.  Dean smiled a tight smile and said, “Sam, you sly dog.”

The thought that his brother ran away from him to go bang some chick made him want to punch something, but he tried to think about it as a big brother would, instead of a twisted monster who wanted his kid brother all to himself.  He laughed and realized that Sam hadn’t really connected with anyone in a good way in a long time and maybe his being with this girl could help Sam work through his anger at Dean.  He tried to convince himself that if this made Sam happy, made him let go of how pissed he was at Dean, then surely that would be helpful and worth it.

He watched for a few more minutes trying to figure out what his play should be.

 

 

***********************

 

Sam and Ava listened to the recordings from Scott’s sessions and a cold fear ran up Sam’s spine as the voice describe a yellow eyed man, and how that man told Scott he had plans for him.  The discomfort grew to encompass Sam entirely, as Scott began to describe a war coming and that the people like Scott were going to be the soldiers.  Ava began to worry and ask Sam whether the recording was talking about them.  Sam tried to be honest without causing her further panic but before he could figure out much to say, the window of the room exploded inward from shots being fired at them.  Sam got Ava down out of the line of fire as best he could.

 

 

***********************

 

 

Dean bolted from Baby and made a mad dash up to the roof of the building opposite Sam’s window where he could tell the shots had come from.  He recognized Gordon Walker as the man behind the rifle.  He began to beat Gordon mercilessly yelling that he was going to kill him for shooting at his brother.  Gordon managed to break free momentarily and used his rifle to knock Dean out.

 

 

***********************

 

Once the shooting stopped and Sam thought the coast was clear, he and Ava made their way carefully up onto the roof where the shots had most likely been fired from.  No one was there but Sam found shell casings that indicated that the guy had put a suppressor on the rifle.  It did nothing to make him feel more secure and actually freaked Ava out by his knowledge of the weaponry.

He took his phone out and called Dean.  As confused and upset as he still was, he knew he needed his brother for backup if someone was trying to kill him.  He wasn’t sure what he had stumbled into, but between this and Ava’s vision, he knew he had to bring Dean in on this, otherwise it was unlikely he would survive.

The phone rang through and Dean answered almost immediately.  First words out of his mouth were that he had been looking for Sam.  Sam confessed to being in Lafayette, Indiana, but Dean explained that Ellen had already informed him.  Dean told him he had just gotten to town, adding, “It’s a real funky town.”

Dean paused before continuing, he tried not to let the pain show when he said, “You ditched me Sammy.”

Sam apologized quickly and then told Dean that someone was after him.  Dean asked who and Sam admitted that he didn’t know.  He asked Dean where he was and Dean gave him an address and told him to meet him there, hoping beyond hope, silently to himself, that Sam remembered their code words. 

Cold sweat poured down Sam’s back.  Dean was in trouble.

 

 

***********************

 

 

Dean was tied to a chair in an abandoned house.  Gordon was the one holding the phone during the entire conversation with Sammy. 

 

 

***********************

 

 

Sam told Ava that Dean had given him a code word meaning someone was holding a gun on him.  She stared at him in disbelief. 

 

 

***********************

 

 

Dean tried to get Gordon talking, hoping he might have enough time to get loose before Sammy got there.    Dean thought this must be revenge for how the brothers had left the man tied up for days the last time they had seen him, but Gordon denied that as his motivation.  Dean wasn’t really worried, knowing that Sam could take Gordon and get Dean out of this mess if he couldn’t find a way to free himself before Sam got there.  But as Gordon explained that he wasn’t a killer but a hunter and Sam was fair game, fear began to creep tendrils up Dean’s spine.

 

 

***********************

 

Sam convinced Ava to leave, even though she fought him.  He told her he wanted her out of harm’s way.  When she asked what about him, there was a melancholy sadness to his voice as he said, “Harm’s way doesn’t really bother me.” 

She tried telling him that he was walking right into the situation from her vision where he died, but he was firm, stating matter of factly that “It doesn’t matter.”

She looked up at him worriedly, and he simply said, “It’s my brother.”  As if that was the only explanation necessary.  To him, it was.  He might be hurt and angry and even pissed off at Dean for keeping their father’s final instructions to himself, but the thought of Dean being in danger, dulled all other emotions to a finely pointed need, the need to save his brother.  Nothing else mattered.

 

 

***********************

 

 

Dean sat mostly motionless tied to the chair in the broken down house Gordon had positioned them both in to wait for Sam.  He listened impatiently as Gordon expounded on how he had found out about there being an army of humans that were going to aid the demons in a war against humanity.  And how the demon he had been exorcising at the time had told him all about Sam. 

Dean tried to mock him for listening to a demon, belittling him for believing its lies.  But Gordon assured him that he had done his research.  That it turned out “Sammy” was one of those chosen for the army and that he knew all about Sam being psychic and seeing visions. 

Every time Gordon said his brother’s name, it made Dean’s skin crawl.  The man knew nothing about his brother.  How dare he even begin to judge Sam.  Sam was ten times the hunter Gordon would ever be and would never fall for the traps that Gordon told Dean was planning to set.  He was worried of course, but trusted that Sam knew how to avoid anything Gordon had in mind, since Dean had gotten to tip Sam off with the code word.

Gordon told Dean he had found another of the kids like Sam and had killed him because his ability was to electrocute people just by touch.  Dean asked him if the kid had killed anyone and Gordon said he hadn’t, but had been working up to it. The conviction in Gordon’s voice chilled Dean to his bones, when he assured Dean that all the special kids were going to turn into killers and therefore had to be taken out, even Sam.

Dean knew Sam wasn’t stupid enough to walk through the front door and told Gordon so.  But Gordon busted Dean’s hope of surprise by saying he assumed Dean had gotten a warning to Sam somehow.  Dean began to feel unsettled. Gordon’s cold blooded show and tell of how he would set up a second trip wire to trick Sam who would undoubtedly find the first as he was scouting out the house.

Dean kept his face unfazed behind the bravado smirk that was his mask of choice, but inside he was panicked.  He wanted to trust that Sam’s instincts would keep him safe, but Gordon was good at what he does, everyone had told them that when the boys had first asked around about him.  Dean’s entire body began to vibrate from fear.  He was tied to the freaking chair and had no way to warn Sam further about any of this. 

Gordon bragged about how he had found out where Sam was and it filled Dean with an angry fire.  The fact that he had some kind of behind the scenes contact at the Roadhouse made Dean want to beat his way through all the hunters there the next time he stepped foot in the place. 

His mind raced and churned but he could do little to prepare for what came next.  He was well and truly trussed to the chair.  Cold fear was his only company as Gordon went off into the next room to prepare for Sam’s arrival.

After a short time that felt like an eternity to Dean, Gordon came back and took a seat next to his prisoner.  Dean tried to convince him that Sam was good, that he had more of a conscience that Dean ever dreamed of having.  Gordon agreed that that might be true for now, but he was sure that eventually Sam would become a monster.  Dean denied that, and asked how could a guy like Sam become a monster. 

Gordon had no answer for that, only assured him it was inevitable.  Dean’s anger flared up as he denied that Gordon could know that with certainty.  Gordon told Dean it was Sam’s destiny to go dark.

Gordon’s tone changed.  He told Dean he was sympathetic.  He knew Sam was his brother and Dean loved him.  Dean swallowed hard.  Gordon didn’t know the half of it.  If anyone was a monster it was Dean.  His love for his brother was twisted and dark and monstrous.  He would gladly let Gordon kill him if it would save Sam, but he knew it wouldn’t.  Gordon was crazy.  He had painted a target on Sam’s back and wouldn’t be happy till Sam was put down.  Dean couldn’t let that happen.  He had to keep Gordon talking so he could hear Sam’s approach first and when he did he would yell out to warn his brother of the danger.

Gordon ruined that plan for Dean as well.  He stood up and walked behind Dean shoving a bandana in his mouth and tying it behind Dean’s head to silence him.  Then he proceeded to inform Dean that if John had still been alive, it would have wrecked him to do it, but he would have ended Sam if he had to.  Gordon asked Dean point blank if he wasn’t the man his dad was, knowing that question would twist a knife in Dean’s gut even more.

Dean tried to stay calm but the longer the time went, the closer Sam would be to showing up.  Dean’s nerves began to fray.  He couldn’t remember a time when he felt so powerless to keep Sam safe.

 

 

***********************

 

 

Sam approached the junky abandoned house with caution.  He saw Gordon staked out watching the front door.  Sam went around to the back quietly, but then found the back door locked.  He tried to be just as noiseless while picking the lock but the cast on his right hand made it difficult, allowing the metal scraping on metal of his attempts to be heard throughout the silent house.

 

 

***********************

 

At the sound of the lock turning Gordon asked Dean if he could hear Sam too.  After just a few seconds an explosion wracked the back of the house.  Dean yelled out in frustrated, panicked, alarm through the gag but Gordon told him to wait, knowing that Sam probably triggered that explosion on purpose.  Gordon had all but made the first wire blatantly obvious so that Sam would feel confident moving forward once he safely tripped it.  The second wire was well hidden and Gordon was sure Sam would never find it before triggering his own death.

Dean prayed that Gordon was right about the first explosion and hoped with all his might that Sam found the second one and safely avoided it.  Dean’s chair was aimed away from the back of the house so could barely see anything from that direction even when he strained his neck as far around to the side as he could.  There was no visible movement or any indication that Sam was even still alive but he had to be, Dean couldn’t bear the alternative. But then there was a second explosion and Dean’s hopes were vaporized in the blast. 

Dean was hit in the back by light shrapnel but couldn’t feel it through the panicked beating of his own heart.  He couldn’t catch his breath.  He gasped, grunting gulps of shallow air through the cloth, pulled tightly in his mouth and his heart pounded raggedly out of sync in his chest.  Sam couldn’t be dead.  He survived the demon virus, he couldn’t die now.  He didn’t care if Sam was still pissed, Dean deserved that.  He promised Sam silently in his head, that he could walk away from Dean and go back to Stanford if that is what he wanted, he just begged Sam in his mind over and over not to be dead.

Dean looked up at Gordon where he stood over him, listening towards the back of the house for any indication of Sam’s survival.  As the dust settled around them, Gordon looked down at Dean and said without any truth behind it, “Sorry Dean.”

Dean began to rock the chair he was tied to in hopes of breaking one of the legs to free himself.  Gordon walked off towards the back of the house raising his gun.  Dean could be dealt with later. He had to make sure the bomb had finished the real danger off first.

Dean’s heart skipped so hard he thought it might burst through his chest when he heard Sam yelling angrily from the back of the house, “Put it down now!”

Sam was alive.  Dean couldn’t believe it. He doubled his efforts to break free.

 

 

***********************

 

 

Sam snuck up behind Gordon, while he searched the destruction for any signs that Sam had survived, and put his own gun up to Gordon’s head. 

Gordon tried to distract him by saying Sam wouldn’t kill him, because Dean thought Sam was some kind of saint.  Sam was surprised to hear that after the things Dean had hidden from him and how scared he seemed to be of Sam’s abilities.  The younger Winchester rose to the bait saying “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Gordon agreed with him, using the distraction to knock Sam’s gun away.  Gordon hit Sam hard several times and then kicked him through one of the dilapidated old walls into the next room. 

 

 

***********************

 

 

Hearing the commotion Dean struggled against his bonds in desperation.

 

 

***********************

 

 

Gordon bent over Sam pulling a knife, but his words hurt Sam far more than the knife could have when he said, “You’re no better than the things you hunt.”

Sam absorbed the pain, knowing it was how he felt about himself anyway, and grabbed Gordon’s knife hand.  Sam used his hips and legs to push Gordon up and over onto the floor away from him.

Sam beat him with his heavier cast hand and then grabbed Gordon’s rifle and stood over him.  Gordon looked up at Sam and said “Do it.  Show your brother the killer you really are, Sammy.”

His desire to end Gordon for taking Dean hostage, sent a cold chill of fear through Sam, before his heart calmed down.  Instead he focused on how much he hated Gordon’s use of the nickname that should be Dean’s alone.  He turned the gun and used the butt end to knock Gordon out, before saying through gritted teeth, “It’s Sam.”

Sam walked slowly into the other room and Dean would have jumped for joy if he could.  Not only was Sam alive but he must have subdued Gordon somehow and was safe, at least for the moment. 

Sam bent by the chair and made quick work of untying Dean. His brother barely waited for the last rope to fall before he pulled Sam to his feet grabbing him by the shoulders so he could check him over for injuries.  His right hand went lovingly to Sam’s neck, his thumb unconsciously began to run across the base of Sam’s jaw as he looked up into the taller man’s eyes.

Before Sam could enjoy the feel of his touch, Dean took in Sam’s bloodied, swollen face and rage filled his entire being.  Dean turned on his heel and under his breath said “son of a bitch” as he moved swiftly towards the other room to take payment for Sam’s injuries out of Gordon’s hide.

Sam stopped his momentum with “Dean, no.”

Dean turned back to his brother and said, “I let him live once, I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

Sam said exhaustedly, “Trust me, Gordon’s taken care of.”

He reached for his older brother and grabbed him by the coat, pulling him in the direction of the front of the house.

Dean had no idea what Sam’s plan was, but he was so grateful and thankful that Sam was alive and talking to him that he did as his brother asked and went out the front door.  They walked silently side by side through the detritus surrounding the old house, neither being sure what to say to the other just yet.

They hadn’t cleared the property before Gordon came out of the door and began shooting at them.

They both took off running across the dirt road in front of the house and into the foliage across the way.  Dean yelled out angrily as he ducked for cover, “You call this taken care of ?”

Before Gordon got to them and before Dean could give Sam too much more grief about it, two police cars pulled up surrounding Gordon from both directions.

The cops had not only witnessed him brandishing guns in both hands, shooting into the night as they pulled up, but then once they handcuffed him, they searched his car, finding the arsenal of weapons and hunting supplies he had hidden there.

Sam leaned towards Dean and whispered “Anonymous tip.”

Dean didn’t even attempt to hide his pride and admiration as he replied with a smile, “You’re a fine, upstanding citizen, Sam.” 

His brother couldn’t stop his face from breaking out into a smile of relief and happiness in return.  They made their way back to the Impala after watching Gordon get stuffed away in a police car.

Once Dean had stashed Sam safely in Baby, he stood outside in the cool night air and called Ellen.  His rage had returned and since he didn’t get to pummel Gordon, he began to take the frustrated anger out on the woman at the other end of the phone.  He berated her about what had happened and all but accused her of having somehow let the information about Sam get into the other hunter’s hands.

She was apologetic and seemed to understand that he needed to vent.  She took his anger with patience but promised him that she, Jo, and Ash were loyal and had nothing to do with any of the hunters finding out. 

Ellen’s assurances gave Dean little comfort.  In fact, her stating that she could think of twelve hunters off the top of her head that came through the bar and were smart enough to put together the facts of the case and come to the conclusion about Sam.  That scared Dean.  His blood ran cold at the thought of other hunters out there believing like Gordon, making Sam a walking target at any time. 

The brothers took off into the foggy gray night.  Sam tried to call Ava multiple times with no luck, which left him feeling unsettled.

Dean waited for him to leave a message and then began talking about Gordon.  He had tried to distract himself from how all this had made him feel powerless and scared but couldn’t leave it alone.  He had to say something.  He took a deep breath trying to calm himself before saying, “Dude, if you ever take off like that again,”

He cut his eyes to Sam, who smiled mischievously saying, “What?”

Sam took a beat and tried to not let the pain, of what Dean had confessed, that drove him away from his brother to begin with, overwhelm him.  He continued, “You’d kill me?”

Sam delivered it deadpan and Dean took it as the offer of smoothing over of their fight that he knew it to be.  But it churned his stomach as he answered, “That’s so not funny.”

Sam chuckled and both brothers knew the fight was over.  Sam asked where they were headed next and Dean began by saying Amsterdam, which let Sam know that in spite of the truce, Dean was still convinced that they should lay low and not keep hunting because of whatever was going on with Sam and the Yellow Eyed Demon’s plans for him.

Sam couldn’t let Dean give up his life for Sam.  Dean was a hunter.  It was what he was meant to do and Sam told Dean so.  Dean responded by saying he didn’t believe in that destiny crap and Sam knew he meant he didn’t believe in Sam’s destiny and said as much.  Dean didn’t deny it, just blew it off with a raise of his eyebrows, a tilt of his head, and a “Whatever.”

Sam watched his brother for a moment and realized the price Dean was willing to pay to keep him safe.  Dean had lived to hunt since he was big enough to hold a knife, Dean knew it, and knew that Sam knew it too.  The fact that Dean was willing to walk away from it, from all of it, everything he lived for, everything he loved, for an indefinite amount of time, just to attempt to keep Sam safe, it filled Sam up.  The hope he had begun to feel only moments before all the rage and betrayal had flooded his system, began to peek its timid head out again. 

Yes, he knew Dean would do anything for _his brother,_ but what if there was more, what if Sam’s hunch was right, that maybe Dean cared for Sam in a not so brotherly fashion too?

Whether that was true or not, Sam loved Dean enough to not let him give up hunting for Sam.  And for all they knew, walking away from the life wouldn’t keep Sam safe anyway. 

Sam couldn’t make this about Dean though, he knew Dean would spin them both in circles about it if it was about Dean not sacrificing for Sam.  That was all Dean had done his entire life was sacrifice for Sam, so why wouldn’t he give up hunting too.  So Sam made the argument about himself.  He told Dean he had tried to run from the life before.  That going all the way to California hadn’t done any good.  He told Dean that they couldn’t run from this.  And that Dean couldn’t protect him.

Dean cut his eyes to Sam again, saying, “I can try.”

Sam watched his brother’s profile go through shadows and light as a car’s headlights lit up the interior.  Sam’s face went soft.  His heart hurt from how beautiful his brother was.  How focused on being his protector Dean was, how much he had already done for Sam, carrying their father’s dying secret request alone, on his shoulders, all this time. 

Sam’s voice was quiet, intimate, when he whispered, “Thanks for that.”

Sam tried to keep his mind off just how much he wished he could snuggle up under Dean’s arm and let him protect Sam from the world.  He wanted nothing more than that right now after the exhausting week they have had.  All the horrible stuff that hung between them about Sam’s abilities and his father believing that he might turn so dark that he wouldn’t be worth saving, like Gordon believed was left unsaid.  Dean, however, seemed to believe Sam could be saved, was worth it, given everything Dean knew, and with John’s warning echoing in his brother’s head, somehow Dean still saw the good in Sam.  Even Gordon had said so.

Sam took all that in and knew that had to be enough right now.  He had no clue if he was right about Dean sharing his darker desires, he discounted it really, he couldn’t be that lucky.  Dean was too good, too much of a straight arrow to be anywhere nearly as twisted and wrong as Sam knew his own desires to be.  So unless Dean showed him blatantly that he did want him, Sam was content to just be by his brother’s side again.

He told Dean he was going to keep hunting.  That he was going to take whatever came at him head on.  Dean just shook his head in disbelief at how stubborn his kid brother truly was.

Sam told him, “If you really want to watch my back, then I guess you’re gonna have to stick around.”

Dean answered immediately with, “Bitch.”

Sam smiled as he answered, “Jerk.”

The smile didn’t last though, as he opened his phone to call Ava again.

Dean tried for a light-hearted tone as he asked if Sam was sweet on her or something.  It soured Dean’s stomach to think that the two vision sharing people had shared a connection between them in that way, but he was so thankful to have Sam back by his side that he didn’t want the bitter jealousy he felt to show.

After Sam had shot down his question with the assurance that she was engaged, Dean dismissed that as a problem asking “So?” adding “What’s the point in saving the world, if you can’t get a little nookie once in a while?”

Dean began to get concerned when he saw the furrow of Sam’s brow.  Sam told him it was just a feeling but asked him how far it was to Peoria.  Dean turned the car in that direction without any other questions.

They made it to Ava’s address before morning, finding her place empty except for the ravaged dead body of her fiancé, sulfur on the open window ledge, and her engagement ring on the bloody carpet at the foot of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am so sorry that I have been away so long. I have been a mess. Work has gotten so busy I am exhausted at the end of every day and I have had problems finding the energy to write at all up to now. But I am determined to find some kind of balance so that I can begin to write regularly again. I have missed the boys, and all of you.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this after having waited to get it for months now. I feel so rusty and by far don't think this is my best work because of it. But you have to start somewhere getting back in the saddle right?
> 
> Hopefully the next update will be much better because we have Playthings coming up next... yikes!
> 
> Thank you so much for being along on this ride with me and I hope you aren't disappointed with this first endeavor back. 
> 
> Love to you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Well in case it wasn't apparent, I hit a wall of writer's block so hard I would have broken my nose if it had been tangible. I hate that this scene has taken so long to do. Sorry for leaving you guys hanging. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope to have the rest of Hunted up asap.
> 
> I am glad to be back digging around in the boys' minds and hearts. It is a relief after the emptiness of not writing at all for two weeks. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the continued support, kudos and comments!!!
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr if you feel like it at [AllieHallowsEve](https://alliehallowseve.tumblr.com/)


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